Proof
by mandyraz
Summary: Spoilers ahead! After the death, or disappearance of Suoh Mikoto, HOMRA members are suddenly left with little idea of how to continue their lives. Some, like Yata Misaki, see it as an end; others, like Fushimi Saruhiko, see it as a second chance. Slight blood, post Mikoto death, language, SaruMi, possible lemons and violence in later chapters.
1. Prologue

**((A.N.: **This is a very short teaser/prologue to a story that was largely inspired by a talk with KitsHiwatari. Stay tuned, first chapter should be up shortly~**))**

"Oi, Yata-san, are you sure you wanna do this? I mean... Take a bit more time to think it over?" A tall figure straightened himself from bending over a table, adjusting the metal instrument in his hand. It buzzed as he pushed against the trigger and, satisfied, the man wiped it off with a piece of tissue. He slowly turned back to the short brunette sitting in his studio.

Yata pulled his top off, brashly tossing it aside where his sweater and cap were sitting. "Tsk... Stop talking, just shut up and do it."

The man shrugged, gesturing to a chair for Yata to sit down. "Well, if you're sure... Oh but, I will tell you, this is going to hurt more than what you guys got last time from Mikoto-san." He murmured, lifting a piece of tracing paper against the light to check the design.

"It's fine." Yata sighed, briefly lifting his fingers to brush against his collarbone, eyes lidded in thought. "It can't hurt more than forgetting."


	2. Chapter 1

**((A.N.: **I would like to take this opportunity to point out a headcanon, or rather assumption I'm making based on the anime, as follows: When a King dies, the clansmen retain their powers given by said King. It doesn't serve much plot purpose though; I just wanted to address it. Given, it's a tad of a stretch; the only reason I'm saying this is because Kuroh still had his powers after Ichigen passed on, so take it or leave it hehe. Sorry for the long A.N., and thanks to all the lovely reviewers, I really appreciate it~**))**

* * *

It didn't take long really.

Sooner than many would have liked to admit, the bar HOMRA and its sometimes rowdy patrons seemed to be all that was left of the previous Red King, Suoh Mikoto and his clan. Even in the bar, however, there was little way of telling if ex clan members were dropping by for the sake of the clan, to kill time, or because they simply had nowhere else to go.

Kusanagi looked up from a cocktail as the bell on his door jingled, a habitual "Welcome" out his mouth before he could stop his lips. There was sudden silence, followed by a breakout of hushed murmurs. A familiar face, albeit so only to older members; or those close to one Yata Misaki.

Speaking of whom, the Yatagarasu looked up from fervently squabbling with a fellow member over whose turn it was to order from the Jukebox.

Actually, Yata didn't quite know what he should have called the other man. An ex-clan mate? A friend? Following the death, or disappearance of Suoh Mikoto, the HOMRA members were suddenly left without much knowledge of how to continue in their lives. Together in form, but scattered in presence; their symbolic tattoos disappeared, their remaining control of the red aura the only lingering proof of clansmanship.

Dropping his... Clansmate's collar, Yata gave a click of his tongue and walked over to the entrance, just as the ornate wooden door swung shut behind a tall, lanky figure.

Fushimi smiled down at him, eyes fixated on the small brunette from behind his glasses. His expression seemed unreadable; aside from intense focus on the HOMRA vanguard, even Yata himself couldn't tell what was going on in Fushimi's mind.

"The hell you want here?" He spat, ignoring when Kusanagi warned him to take any fights outside.

Fushimi shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets as he shifted his weight, and turned on a heel as if to exit. "Come with me for a bit, Misaki." He smiled, no trace of threat in his voice as he nodded in the direction of the bar door.

Yata straightened himself, unsure and a little taken aback. "You think I'd just follow you out like that, Saru?"

The taller boy merely smiled again, although this time it seemed more like a knowing smirk. Not another word was said as he calmly walked back out onto the street, the patrons of the bar still caught in strangled silence. Slowly, heads turned towards Yata as the boy clicked his tongue, frustrated, and kicked up his skateboard.

"Kusanagi-san, I'm going out a bit." He yelled hastily before running out, pushing the door open with perhaps just a little more force than was absolutely necessary.

Fushimi grinned a little wider, hands in his pockets as he heard the sound of skateboard wheels on the sidewalk.

"Oi, Saru!"

He stopped, only turning around when he heard Yata kicking his skateboard back up right behind him. "Saru, the hell do you want?! Coming over like that, what're you trying to do!?"

"Say, Misaki. I heard from Captain."

"Haah!? The fuck are you trying to say, this better not be some kinda...!" Before Yata could say another word, Fushimi had already come close enough for the boy to involuntarily lean backwards. He near stumbled when he felt a finger on his lips, shushing him gently.

"Tsk, Misaki... Just be quiet for a second won't you..." Fushimi sighed, for the first time since he'd decided to join Scepter 4, showing Yata a weary frown instead of a slightly more characteristic psychotic grin.

"Mikoto-san's last words... Don't you want to hear them?"


	3. Chapter 2

**((A.N.: **Thanks again, so, so much for the reviews and KitsHiwatari for help with Saru's psycho ex-boyfriend psyche heheh.**))**

Yata broke contact at the mention of their former King, stepping back and spluttering. "B-Bastard, why've you been keeping something like that from me.. I mean, us!?" Fushimi's usual grin returned as Yata continued fumbling around for words. "Tch... Last words... Don't tell me you killed him, cause I won't believe it for a second." The boy growled, knuckles white as he clenched his fists.

"Of course not, it takes a King to kill one, idiot." The taller boy huffed, earning himself a loud and angry protest at the name calling. Pulling his fingers out of his ears however, he continued. "Captain did. But it was a favor to Mikoto-san, you know that as well as I do." Yata spat again, turning to a side as if he just recalled something he never wished to think about again.

"Of course I know that, damned monkey." He whispered eventually, lips trembling as his grip on his skateboard loosened. "Why else d'you think we didn't storm your damn headquarters the very next day."

Fushimi was tempted, very, to give some kind of petty remark, but quickly decided against it.

"So... Mikoto-san's last words..." Yata dropped his skateboard on the sidewalk again, as if preparing himself for departure once he'd heard what he came to. "What were they."

The taller boy stared down at his old friend, pondering just how far he could take this. "Come to my place, then we'll talk."

The response was immediate, an unmistakable blush blooming on Yata's cheeks. "HAAH!? The hell Saru!? You think I'm just going to follow you..."

"Actually... Yeah, I do think so, Misaki." Fushimi breathed cooly, just his calm voice was enough to stop Yata from shouting loud enough for people across the street to hear him. Taken aback, Yata gave a loud harrumph before folding his arms, blush intensifying... An act that had Fushimi chuckling ever so slightly before turning to leave. "I still live where I used to, come whenever you're free. If you're scared, bring whatever weapons you want, except other people."

"Oi, who the hell would be scared of you!? I'm going right now, just watch me!"

With that, he threw down his skateboard, kicked off and went on for a few seconds... Before stopping and turning back. "Hey! Saru!" He shouted from fifty or so meters away. "Is your spare key still in the same place!? If it isn't you better hurry your ass up!"

Another chuckle to himself. "Yeah. It's still there."

By the time Fushimi got back to his apartment, Yata was already sitting against the couch in the living room, absently flipping through channels on the TV. Though, from the corner of his eye, Fushimi could see that a document or two on the table had been shifted.

"It's not nice to look through people's things Misaki."

"Never stopped you, Saru." The shorter boy remarked, turning the TV off and shifting to face Fushimi as the taller boy sat down on the couch behind him. "So? What were they. Mikoto-san's last words."

Fushimi toyed with the idea of acting like he didn't know, or like he'd forgotten just to push Yata's buttons. He quickly decided there were plenty of other opportunities to bully Yata though, and shrugged before giving the shorter boy what he came for. "He apologized to Anna, said he wouldn't be able to show her the pretty shade of red she liked anymore."

"I... I see." They sat there in silence for a few seconds, the brunette looking slightly disappointed that the Red King hadn't left behind any instructions or the likes for his clan.

"Nothing else?"

"Not that I know of."

"Hmm..."

It was odd how comfortable both of them were, sitting this close to each other in Fushimi's apartment; it felt like pretty much the way they used to be before the taller boy had broken off. Everything in the room around them looked neat and tidy to a fault, which was more or less the way Yata remembered it; with the exception of documents piled up here and there.

A little snort, and Yata turned to glance tentatively at the exit, where his skateboard was leaned on a doorframe.

"Say, Misaki."

"How many times do I have to tell you damn monkey, stop calling me that." He reached out to swat the taller boy over the head but, of course, missed as Fushimi smoothly ducked out of the way.

"... Misaki, stay here for awhile." He near whispered upon regaining his posture. Before Yata could react to his gut reaction of calling his ex-best-friend crazy and storming out of the place though, he made the mistake of looking directly _at _said ex-best-friend.

It was a calm, negotiating, even hopeful expression he hadn't seen in years.

"... Keh, fine!"


	4. Chapter 3

**((A.N.: **Nothing much happens in this chapter, I apologize OTL But, it's a structural decision! The next one _does_ have more going on, I promise! Also, thanks again for the lovely reviews~**))**

Over the course of the next few days, Fushimi began thinking that there was one good thing about Yata hanging out with his old HOMRA bunch all the time, even if it _did_ make him ever so slightly jealous. At least if the snappy brunette wasn't at home, Fushimi had a pretty good idea where to find him.

It was probably thus, that the Blue clansman became a common sight at the bar, most oft to poke fun at 'Mi-Sa-Kiii~', and perhaps have a little chat with Kusanagi for old days' sakes. With time, the HOMRA members stopped paying particular attention to him. Though it wasn't a welcome with open arms, it _was_ a gratifying step forward from being eyed suspiciously over shoulders every 9 seconds.

No one even said anything when he stopped in front of Totsuka's cork board of polaroids and scribbles; staring at it, unmoving, for a noticeably long time.

More than anything though, members started to notice a change in one of their own ranks; their vanguard seemed to be getting closer to the 'newcomer'. Some said it was simply just that Yata had stopped vehemently pushing Fushimi away; others suggested they were patching up again entirely, which was probably a good thing.

Other members of Scepter 4 however had differing views, as was apparent from their complaints.

"Fushimi, you've been neglecting your work even more than usual haven't you." He didn't need to look up, that voice and calm tone couldn't have been anyone other than his Lieutenant, Awashima.

Sighing away impending sleep, he struggled to focus back on his paperwork. "Hm…? I don't mean to."

"Really now." Came the dubious response. The tall woman dragged out a vacant seat next to him, inviting herself to sit down. "The Captain asked me to talk to you, what's going on?" A shrug was all the response she got, earning Fushimi a disapproving frown from his superior. "See here Fushimi..." Awashima sighed at length. "Kusanagi tells me you've been going to the bar a lot. Is it something to do with that?"

The smallest flinch couldn't have escaped Awashima's eyes, and Fushimi struggled to regain his calm demeanour. "... Maybe."

"I won't take maybe for an answer. Or, rather, the Captain won't."

Just on the verge of a retort, Fushimi clicked his tongue, folding his arms and kicking back into his seat. "You going to fire me or something?"

The blonde woman pondered this a little too seriously for Fushimi to feel comfortable. "Hmm... Probably not, but that ultimately depends on your performance." With that she got up, much to her subordinate's relief, and turned to leave, stopping briefly at the door. "Don't get me wrong, Fushimi-kun, I think it's good that you're getting along better with Yata Misaki. Just don't let it affect how you do your work."

He slung his arms behind his head as the door swung shut, making a mental note to tell Kusanagi to mind his own business.

When he next walked up the steps leading to the bar door however, he was met by said door almost slamming into his face as Yata stormed out. Startled, he didn't quite catch the mumbling, or the shade of pink on the brunette's face as Yata passed him by.

"Misaki? Hey, where're you going?"

"Huh? WAH?! The hell, it's you Saru." The shorter boy did stop, short of stumbling down the steps, allowing his friend to get a little closer. "I was uhm... Just, kinda, going to your place."

The fidgeting, the blush, the shifty eyes and twiddling fingers. All these things Fushimi instantly took note of. Somewhy, they just seemed... Cute. He didn't have long to stare though, the Yatagarasu spoke up again, breaking his trail of thought. "Y-you're free right? I mean, if you were coming here and everything."

Well, telling Kusanagi to keep his mouth shut probably could have waited till next time. He gave a slight chuckle, tussling Yata's brown hair through his cap, while the shorter boy made a big and noisy show of protesting.

"Sure."


	5. Chapter 4

**((A.N.: **As promised, quite a bit happens here hehe. Still no real lemons though, that comes in the next chapter~ I apologize up front if Yata is slightly OOC, I'm... Not even going to use the plot device excuse OTL**))**

For once Yata chose to walk beside his friend instead of boarding ahead and using the spare key to get into the apartment, waiting and killing time while Fushimi slowly made his way there. Though, when the taller boy glanced down, he did notice that Yata had made sure to hold his skateboard with the hand that would otherwise be dangling down awkwardly next to his own.

Minute after minute passed in silence. "So... You were going to my place."

"Yeah." The brunette muttered reluctantly.

"What for? And what was going on back in the bar?"

"None of your business Saru..." The taller boy shrugged. He'd just gone back to searching for something else to talk about when Yata spoke up again. "Just... Some shit Kusanagi-san and the guys were saying."

"Hnn... I'm not surprised." It wasn't too difficult to figure Kusanagi would be trying to talk them into patching up somehow or another. Between the bar owner and his own Lieutenant, there'd been multiple attempts to try and improve their relationship. No one was really delusional enough to hope they'd be buddies rooming together again, but slightly less outright hostility would have been nice.

The rest of the journey back to Fushimi's apartment was spent in relative silence. Surprisingly so, considering how rowdy Yata generally tended to be. Whatever it was that Kusanagi said seemed to have upset the shorter boy quite a bit, with him scratching his head in irritation every now and then, mumbling under his breath and generally behaving like a small child who'd been denied candy.

They headed wordlessly into the apartment, setting their things down by an act of routine; forgotten habit that had been restored over the course of the past few days. Yata seemed tense, for whatever reasons though his friend had no idea, and the Yatagarasu himself wasn't letting in on anything. Fushimi sank heavily into the sofa, reaching for the remote control as Yata plopped himself down on the floor, his head leaning ever so gingerly against Fushimi's knee.

Saying anything at all would have ruined the moment, the taller boy knew. Just the slightest taunt, and the brunette would snap up again, vehemently deny everything. He'd be claiming he was just tired, or he thought his friend's knee was a cushion, that his hand slipped on the floor, anything along those lines. Above all though, Fushimi was probably unsure himself if this was Yata's intention, using the lack of resistance to seek some kind of confirmation.

"... Oi, Saru."

"Hmm? What is it, Misaki?" No immediate protesting at the name, a good sign.

"Why... I mean, well, why're you... Yanno, going to the bar so often now?" Looking down, Fushimi couldn't help grinning to himself. Yata wouldn't have done anything like fidgeting or wringing his fingers if he was nervous, he would put up the best front he could to keep up the gangster act. However, he was shaking, ever so slightly; the one thing he couldn't consciously control. Staring at his small figure, the taller boy couldn't help but thinking once again that he looked... Cute.

"Does it matter?" Came the lethargic response, Fushimi daring himself to slowly shift a hand atop his companion's head, gently tussling auburn hair through the fabric of his cap. There was a moment or so of incoherent muttering in response, but still Yata made no move to shift his head away.

"Well... Not really."

For once there was no snarky response, both boys getting more comfortable, but at the same time more tense by the second.

From the top of Yata's head, Fushimi's hand shifted slowly to the side of Yata's face, playing gently with hair poking out from under his beanie. Bit by bit, the reactions that Fushimi didn't expect to see started breaking through the shorter boy's tough facade. His wringing fingers, his head leaning slightly heavier on Fushimi's knee, his blushing hard enough to make the tips of his ears red.

"Misaki," He began, hand shifting to a rest on Yata's shoulder. "Isn't it hard on the floor? Sit next to me." The voice he'd wanted to release wasn't exactly the teasing, coyly seductive one that he heard himself using, but nonetheless, Yata reacted. The shorter boy hesitated for a second before slowly getting to his knees, standing, eyes never meeting those of his friend. Fushimi's hand slid from Yata's shoulder as the boy stood, slender fingers grasping his arm, sliding down, down, till his fingers were held gingerly in the other boy's hands.

A slight tug was all it took.

Yata tumbled clumsily into waiting arms that closed around him so tightly it made him want to yelp in shock; oddly though he didn't struggle. This seemed to be a surprise for Fushimi, who loosened his grasp when he was reasonably sure the smaller boy wasn't about to sock him in the face and run away.

He wasn't sure what to think when he felt arms sheepishly coil around his back, but it was definitely something along the lines of relief.


	6. Chapter 5

**((A.N.:** Sorry for ending the last chapter on sort of a cliffhanger~ Uhm, lemon warning once again, and thanks so much to everyone for sticking with the story! Reviews welcome.**))**

"Oi, what's gotten into you Saru..." Yata muttered at length, lowering his face and burying it in the crook of the taller boy's neck.

"Misaki..." Came a voice muffled on Yata's shoulder. "Misaki... You're finally mine again, Misaki..." Yata cringed slightly at hearing that name being called so many times, unnecessarily, but didn't have any more time to think when he felt a hand shifting against him and inching down to his crotch.

His own hand immediately reached down to block Fushimi off. "O-oi, Saru! What the hell do you think you're..." His voice was cut off by a sudden and forceful kiss; never in the world did he believe Fushimi's slender body could have produced this much strength. It didn't take long for the smaller boy's defences to wane, and soon enough Fushimi was grinning against his lips, casually sliding his glasses off his face... All too aware that Yata was cautiously eyeing his every move.

The taller boy hastily set his glasses aside. "Na, Misaki..." He began again, hands now easily pushing Yata's out of the way and reaching for his target. The smaller boy squirmed, holding in moans that Fushimi dearly wished to tear from his throat. "You remember right? How we did this before..."

Yata clicked his tongue in irritation. "Sh-shaddup... Aah...!" The brunette threw his head back at the kneading against his crotch, mouth gaping in a strangled scream. What Fushimi would have given to have this image preserved for eternity; he knew Yata was millennia away from being open enough with him for videoing though.

That thought aside, Fushimi reached his hands around his partner, coaxing the boy to sit in his lap when Yata did something unexpected. There was that split second moment of awkward closeness, their noses touching, before Yata tilted his face and lips brushed against Fushimi's. Not by accident, not by obligation. The taller boy heard a reluctant "Damnit Saru... Stop messing around." mumbled into his throat more than his ears, and a coy grin contorted his lips as he accepted the clumsy kiss.

Pent up lust over years and years was only just kept in check, Fushimi taking his time despite Yata's uncharacteristic request. "Hmm~ don't think I will, Misaki... I like seeing you like this." He murmured against damp skin, allowing himself a slow lick along the side of Yata's face. The Yatagarasu was a squirming wreck, hands wrung around his partner's neck and shuddering like an abandoned puppy.

It was too cute, everything Yata did just made the taller boy want to bully him a little bit more. So he did, inviting himself to slide his fingers under the brunette's baggy top and fumble with the clasp of his shorts. Aside from a sharp inhale, Fushimi saw no protest on the smaller boy's side. His zip came undone, and the thin layer of underwear was soon peeled back, Fushimi releasing a sigh as he reached for his partner's dripping erection.

"Heheh... I haven't seen this guy for awhile Misaki, it's like seeing an old friend again."

"FUCK YOU SARU!" He growled, his usual snappy attitude returning before Fushimi grabbed his slicked up penis in one swift move, slender fingers sliding and kneading along the shaft. Yata lost all resistance, slumping onto the taller boy's shoulder again.

Somehow though it still wasn't enough. Raspy breaths escaping from his lips erratically, Fushimi's voice sounded even more seductive than usual. Especially to an impossibly flustered Yata. Thin lips curled into a cynical grin. "Misaki, you're a selfish little brat aren't you."

"Sh-shut up, bastard... You started it..."

Despite his words, Yata complied, reaching towards the obvious bulge in Fushimi's crotch. Trembling fingers undid the buckle of his partner's belt, himself only too conscious of his member being toyed with in plain view. "Tch... You're too slow Misaki..." Yata didn't have much time to process the insult, before he knew what was going on, Fushimi had already pushed him down, his back sinking into the sofa with a soft thud.

"Wah... What the hell! Mmmph...!" A desperate kiss silenced any protests Yata may have had; after all, Fushimi never did have a habit of giving the other boy time to react. Already he'd slipped his breeches off his hips and aligned his cock, bucking against his writhing partner. Fushimi gathered Yata's hand in his own, wrapping them around their erections and rubbing firmly. "Aah, damnit Saru... " That was the last thing said between them, both boys focusing on their throbbing lengths, caught in an unspoken competition of coaxing the other person to release first.

Needless to say Yata lost miserably, but within a few minutes of sweaty bodies, raspy voices and damp air trapped between them, Saru slumped on top of Yata who was already trying to get his breath back.

Just about to shove Fushimi away in annoyance, Yata stopped when he heard a soft whisper right by his ear. "... I missed you Misaki..."

After a click of his tongue that sounded more like something Fushimi would have done, Yata couldn't really hold back either. "... Yeah I missed you too, idiot."


	7. Chapter 6

**((A.N.: **Hope you've enjoyed the story so far~ For now nothing major will happen, so sit back and enjoy the fluff~**))**

If there was one thing HOMRA members were _not_, it was subtle. Even Yata didn't have a difficult time noticing that somewhy, when he walked into the bar the next day, most everyone's eyes were on him. When Kusanagi made an innocent mention of Fushimi, it was the first time ever that anyone had seen Yata going pink out of the context of girls.

Subsequently, it caused an uproar; one that Yata responded to with an uproar of his own.

"Yata-san! Awwh you sly one, you're trying to get closer to him so he'll spill all his secrets or something, right?" Yata turned to the person who'd just spoken up, the murderous glare he'd been wearing milliseconds prior instantly dissolving.

In his flustered desperation, the small brunette grasped that obviously exaggerated lifeline like his last chance at salvation. "Ah... Yeah! Yeah that's totally what I had in mind! I mean, he's a good connection to have right? Hahaha! I knew patching things back up with him was gonna be good!" Thinking he'd smoothed that over pretty well, he let out a contented sigh and turned away from the subordinates with a huff.

A small group started snerking amongst themselves. "Heh... The way he said it, it's so straightforward it almost sounds sarcastic..."

"_Haaaah_? The hell'd you say?"

"N-Nothing!"

With a chuckle, Kusanagi set a clean glass back on the racks behind him and turned to reach for a bottle of vermouth. "Fights outside. Though, Yata-chan, don't be so nervous. It's like making a grand announcement yanno."

The small brunette let out a growl that shook the glass bar door; just before it swung open.

"Oh, that's a good face you're making, Misaki."

The entirety of the bar turned to stare at the only person known to have (reluctant) permission to call Yata by his given name. A suave, relaxed Fushimi waltzed his way calmly to the bar, ordering himself a drink and taking a seat while onlookers tried hard not to snigger. At length, after a sip of his drink and checking his PDA, Fushimi finally turned to a furiously glaring Yata. "... Misaki, why're you staring at me?"

"Am not."

There were muffled chuckles, glared into submission shortly after.

"Hmm...? Well, I don't mind you staring at me, just that I'll be staring back at you."

There was an outbreak of exaggerated guffaws as the color of Yata's cheeks turned decidedly red; ignoring the cat-calls and whistles, he grabbed Fushimi by the wrist and tugged the taller boy out of the bar... Turning back shortly after to snatch up his skateboard from its' usual place beside the door.

Not a word was said, but from the direction they were headed, Fushimi dared a guess that they would end up in his apartment.

And so, silently, they did. Within minutes they were once again seated in his apartment.

So many thing to tease Misaki about, so painfully few opportunities... That was Fushimi's silent lament just seconds before the smaller male turned around suddenly, pointing directly at his face; any closer and Fushimi would probably have felt it on his retinas.

Subtlety was, after all, something the ballistic vanguard was well known for.

"Why the fuck do you keep coming to the bar?" He grouched, as if he'd gotten out of bed that morning and realized there weren't any pop tarts left. "It's weird no matter how you think about it, and the guys are all talking crap like they know what's going on!" Fushimi made a show at this point of being very interested in a patch of nearby carpet. "The hell have you been telling them?" Further growling as Fushimi calmly nudged away the finger pointing between his eyes.

"I don't need to tell anyone anything Misaki, you're too easy to read." Instead of exploding on the spot and sending forth flaming surges of skater boy fury, Yata flinched and went uncharacteristically quiet, prompting Fushimi to wonder if he'd done something seriously wrong.

Just as he teetered on the edge of a reluctant apology, Yata spoke up again. "Am... Am I really?" He muttered, looking away and brows furrowed. Had he looked back though, he'd have caught what was probably the first time he'd ever seen Fushimi blushing.

The jester's teasing instinct soon took auto-pilot. "Yes you are, Misaki, it's so cute to be able to read your every action like an open book, take right now for example..." He mouthed, voice barely audible as he stepped closer to the brunette. Yata froze in place when the taller boy reached out, grabbed his wrist and pulled him against his chest. "You're hoping I'd do something to you, aren't you... Mi-sa-ki~"

A stutter and a shove later, the door of Fushimi's apartment slammed violently shut. Though, from the lack of angry sounding stomps down the corridor, he knew Misaki was right outside trying to wait away his impressively pink face.

Fushimi stayed where he'd been shoved; smack in the middle of his living room, pushing his bangs from his face, a chuckle escaping his lips. He turned to the ceiling and heaved a sigh; if only he'd known it would have all been this easy to get Misaki back...

He pulled himself to his feet, waltzing to the front door without a hurry in the world. Not surprisingly, opening it revealed a very embarrassed Yata waiting outside, staring at his feet and refusing eye contact. With a chuckle, Fushimi grabbed a hold of the shorter boy's waist and pulled him back inside before he could even form any sort of protest.

As they toppled onto his sofa again in a fervent exchange of kisses, Fushimi realized... Getting here hadn't quite been easy at all. Everything that was happening between them at that moment had one, single, very painful requirement; the removal of Suoh Mikoto.

As he gathered Yata into his arms and closed the door again, Fushimi couldn't quite hold back a whisper to himself.

"... I'm actually glad he's gone."

"What was that?" Yata murmured against his lips, a little sigh tickling Fushimi's skin.

"Nothing, Misaki..."


End file.
